The Final Three
by Alice C. Ravenwood
Summary: The 74th Hunger Games are almost over; only three tributes remain. But one mistake can change everything. The last few moments of the Games with different circumstances. Rated T for violent nature. Warning! Major Character death!
1. Eat or Be Eaten

"Dammit!" she whispered. Katniss's arrow missed the rabbit; her last one. After looking left and right like a child before crossing the street, she jumped from her hiding spot in the tree and went to retrieve her arrows.

After only salvaging one arrow from the ground, Katniss stopped. There was a crack from behind her; someone had stepped on a branch. She held her bow, trying to load her only arrow quickly, as she ducked behind a tree.

"Hiding?"

_Thwak!_ Katniss fired the arrow out of being startled. It grazed the owner of the voice, only taking out the fabric on his pants.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Katniss angrily whispered, hitting him. She recovered the arrow and put it back in her quiver. "We're down to just three and you're not helping."

"Sorry," Peeta whispered back. He unhooked a dead squirrel from his waist and pulled something that looked like apples out of the small bag on his shoulder. "But it looks like I had better luck than you did.

Katniss looked down at her own belt; nothing. Not a single rabbit or squirrel. With a surly look, she grabbed the squirrel and started skinning it. Peeta lowered himself to the same level as Katniss.

Without looking up, she asked, "How'd you do it?"

"Threw a knife. Got lucky." Peeta answered in a conversational volume.

Katniss stopped her knife mid-skin and eyed him. "Don't talk so loud. They'll hear you and then we'll both be dead." She went back to skinning.

"Sorry." Peeta stood and walked over to lean on the tree. He watched her skin the little animal. She was so focused and so beautiful. Even with her hair tied up messily, sweat pouring down her face and dirt all over her body, she was beautiful.

She finished and looked up at him. "What?" Katniss asked when she caught him staring and didn't stop.

"Nothing," Peeta looked at her practically empty quiver with one lonesome arrow inside. He whispered, "I thought you had four."

Without looking, she knew what he was talking about. She continued skinning. "I did, I lost one and the others are too badly damaged to be shot. But can you put them in the bag? We can't let Cato use them."

Cato; the only other tribute left in the game. Just one more person to kill and then it was only to two of them left.

Peeta nodded as he carefully picked up the broken arrows and placed them in the bag. As he slowly stood up, his gaze was caught by something white up the tree. "Looks like you forgot one."

Katniss followed his gaze and saw that he was right; one of her arrows was high in the tree.

"Hold this for me." She handed Peeta the skinned squirrel. He put it in the bag as she placed her arms around the base and shimmied up the tree. Or tried to. The trunk was too thick for her to get a good grip and all the branches were too high up.

She turned to Peeta. "Gimme a boost?" she asked.

Peeta nodded and crossed his hands. Katniss nodded as a 'thanks' and positioned her arms on his shoulders. After Katniss readied her foot, Peeta used all his strength to hoist her up over his head, onto his shoulders.

Katniss gripped the arrow and pulled.

"You got it?" Peeta asked in a whispered. He held her ankles firmly.

"It's stuck." Katniss answered in a whispered grunt as she tried to pull the arrow out of the bark, twisting it, trying to loosen it. "It's wedged in pretty good."

"Take your time. No worries."

After one good jerk, "Got it!" _Thwak!_

Katniss's body fell from Peeta's shoulders, onto the forest floor with a loud thud. There was a glistening, silver knife sticking out of her back.

"Katniss!"

Another knife flew out of nowhere, narrowly missing Peeta's face.

"Get behind the tree," Katniss's scratchy voice rasped. Her face was so enraged, Peeta obeyed, pulling out his only weapon; a small knife.

He held his upper thigh. It still was weak from the blood poisoning; a tolerable pinching pain occurs when he pressures it, but he forced himself to stand firm. He readied his knife and started to walk back out

A knife came flailing past, but it lodged in the trunk. Peeta ducked back behind the tree. _Thwak_ Another knife jammed in. _Now he's just taunting me._

"What's the matter Lover Boy?" Peeta heard Cato's voice call out loud. Two more _thwacks._ "Can't fight without your girlfriend's back to hide behind?" He sneered at that.

"Katniss?" Peeta called out with desperation in his voice.

"I'm okay." Her voice was low and grunted. He couldn't tell if she was whispering so Cato wouldn't hear her, or, he didn't want to think of the other option. "Don't move until you hear my signal."

"What signal?" Peeta whispered back. Katniss didn't answer. Good thing he was behind the tree, or he would see her struggle to reach for her bow. Katniss held in her grunts. Not for Cato; for Peeta. Her fingers touched her bow and weakly wrapped them around the silver tip.

Slowly, Katniss inched the bow closer until it her arrow was in a firing position. She aimed her arrow and waited. Her vision started to blur. Was the sweat falling in her eyes? Or was she bleeding too much and the blood loss was messing with her vision.

Another knife came flying out of the bush. _Bingo!_ Katniss fired the arrow straight into where the knife flew out from. There was a _thwack_; the arrow hit something, then a cry of pain. The arrow hit something alive, something human.

**AN- Yes, everyone and their mother is writing a Hunger Games story. So I figured, 'Why not me?" Well, loyal fans, I hope you enjoy** **this one too! Read and Review; then I'll write Chapter two! ^ .^ **


	2. Kill or Be Killed

"Peeta, get Cato!" she yelled as loud as she could, but loudest she could manage was barely louder than a grunted stage whisper.

Peeta emerged from behind the tree, and ran straight for Katniss, throwing the knife aside kneeling next to her. "But you're hurt, I can't just-"

"Just DO it!" Katniss screamed. Peeta took a deep breath and forced himself to pick up the knife, before he ran after Cato, he held Katniss's hand and kissed her lips. But gently; he barely touched them.

Forcing himself to stand and run into the brush after Cato, away from Katniss, caused him unbelievable pain. And it had nothing to do with a bandage wrapped around his healing left thigh.

He ran into the bush where Katniss shot the arrow and stopped. He wasn't the tracker. He didn't grow up hunting in the woods, he'd spent his days frosting cakes and washing flour from under his fingernails not forest dirt. How was he going to track Cato? He thought about going back to Katniss, but Peeta was stopped. He saw a muddy footprint and a broken branch.

Rage burned throughout his body; testosterone fanning the flames. His mind was clouded as the single thought of retribution became his only focus, coursing through his veins as if it had replaced his blood.

Blood. That's what he wanted, and he was going to get it. Fresh blood was strewn along the forest floor. Hansel had left Peeta a trail of breadcrumbs to follow. _Ugh! Splash. Splash._

Cato was near.

* * *

><p>Bent over a small pond, Cato had both his hands on the arrow in his shoulder. He was lucky. Had that bitch shot even one degree to the right, this arrow would be in his carotid artery and he'd be dead in a bush. But even in a dying state that girl had good aim. The wound was bleeding enough to force Cato to stop and clean up before finishing the job.<p>

"Ugh!" he didn't even muffle his gripes. Miss Eleven was bleeding to death and even if Lover Boy had found it in him to leave her side, Cato could take him with his hands tied behind his back.

_Fwah._ "Ugh!" the arrow came shooting out of his shoulder. Cato threw it over his head and held his hand over the gash quickly, trying to stop the bleeding. He tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and held it there tight replacing his hand.

Cato started to clean the wound with another piece of cloth. _Snap._ That sounded like a branch breaking. Like it had been stepped on.

Cato turned his head, but it was too late. Peeta launched himself head first at Cato, knocking him to the ground. Both of them rolled in opposite directions. Cato reached for a knife before he realizing he'd used them all up. Nice one.

Peeta ran at top speed and knocked into his opponent again. Cato rolled back to where he had been cleaning his injury. He coughed, trying to lift himself up before his arms gave out. Peeta walked over slowly, knife still in hand, ready for use. Cato lay on the ground motionless. Peeta raised his hand to strike the final blow, but Cato was faster. In swift motion, he raised his body and stabbed Peeta in the same spot where his spear hit, this time, with Katniss's arrow.

"ARGH!" Peeta dropped his knife and fell to his knees, cradling his twice opened wound. Cato rose to his feet and kicked Peeta in the head, knocking him to the ground. He rolled the baker on his back and crouched over his prey, feet on either side of his body.

"Oh Romeo, wherefore art thee?" Cato said in a mock girl's voice. He looked at Peeta with livid eyes and a face that said, "I'm going to kill you." He placed his hand on the arrow. "Guess we're going to have to tell Julia that the wedding's canceled," and he yanked it out quickly.

"Argh!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry. "Did that hurt?"

Peeta's only response was a small wincing sound he tried to hold back, refusing to let Cato win.

"Let's try that again." He jammed the arrow back in.

Peeta reached for the knife he dropped. It was a vain attempt. Cato caught him and stepped on his hand, bending over to pick up the knife. "Pitiful attempt Romeo."

Cato didn't see it coming. Peeta had pulled the arrow out of his leg without a sound and rammed it into Cato's foot. Then he did an unsteady roundhouse kick that knocked Cato to the ground.

Instead of playing sadistic killer, Peeta kicked the knife into the water and pulled the arrow out, making it join its friend at the bottom of a dirty pond. Adrenaline pumped through his body like a super drug. He picked Cato up and tossed him into a tree. He tried to stand up but Peeta elbowed his face and his head went backwards, hitting the tree again.

Peeta kicked his body face up and jumped on top of the thick gorilla. He balled his fingers into fists and punched Cato in the face, one right after the other.

"It's- Jul- i- et- you- stu- pid- ass- hole!" He snarled through gritted teeth, pronouncing each syllable in between each punch. But he continued punching. Had his body not been full of fury and rage and adrenaline, he would have felt his knuckles getting raw from the abuse. Had he not been so blinded by hate, he would have seen the blood he drawing and spraying. Some on his clothes, some on his face. Were his heart not pounding so hard, making the sound of a thousand horses stampeding, he would have heard the canon that signified Cato's death.

Peeta kept going until all the coal had been burned and he was only running on steam.

Finally, he stopped. Maybe steam wasn't enough anymore. Maybe he could finally see what he was doing. Maybe his emotional cocktail had finally dissolved, leaving only one emptiness.

Whatever it was, Peeta weakly through a last punch before collapsing to the side of Cato's body. His head must have finally cleared. He took one look at the body and broke down; a single tear rolled down his face.

That tear must've broken a dam because a thousand followed and he couldn't stop. There was blood on his hands, on his face that was dripping into his mouth. He could taste Cato's death. Peeta dragged himself to the pond and tried to wash some of the red of his body.

But it was like ink. His skin was stained and it wouldn't come off. Furiously scrubbing, Peeta became more frustrated until he gave up, hitting the water, causing it to make splash.

He'd killed someone. He couldn't believe it. Peeta had actually just killed someone, their blood on his hands.

"Mmm."

The moan pulled Peeta out of his despair. That's when he realized that there had only been one canon.

"KATNISS!"

**AN- And scene****! I know, little scary there, but I've always felt that when you hurt the woman a man truly loves, well, you better pray that the devil finds you first because he'll be nicer to you. Pwease review and I'll write you Chapter Three, _That's the Law of the Jungle_. Bye guys, see you at the Hunger Games Premiere!**


	3. Define or Be Defined

Peeta cradled her body and turned her over, careful not to push the knife in any further. He held Katniss's head under his arm and arched her back up with his knees, keeping the dagger from touching the ground.

He wanted to pull out the dagger and bandage her wound. He wanted to slit his own throat and force the Gamemakers to care her. He wanted to do more than hold Katniss and watch her die, but she promised that if he tried to do anything but embrace her, then she would kill herself.

All she wanted was Peeta to be the last thing she saw.

"Wow, Bread Boy, you've looked better."

Peeta laughed at that. Nothing about any of this was funny, but he was so overwhelmed, it was the only response he could manage. "You couldn't be more beautiful sweetheart." He fought his tears with every strength he had.

Katniss weakly lifted her hand. It shook; the blood loss was starting to show. Peeta grasped it before her strength ran out and her hand fell. Slowly, she traced an outline of a bloodstain on Peeta's hand with her finger. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" his voice almost cracked, but he held it in.

"I couldn't protect you. You had to kill someone. I'm sorry, Peeta, that I couldn't protect you from that." Closing her eyes, she took in a breath and pulled in her lips until they were gone. She looked like a snake, or President Snow. But she was biting down on them in pain.

"Katniss? Katniss!" She opened her eyes. Letting out a sigh of relief, he couldn't hold it in anymore, but only a few tears spilled out. Katniss let go of Peeta's hand, raising her own and resting it on his cheek. Peeta held her wrist for support, holding it up. Using her thumb, she wiped away the tear streaks from his face. It only caused more to appear.

"Stop crying over me. I'm not worth crying over."

"I don't want to just sit here and watch you die Katniss. I can't." He didn't obey her request to stop crying. It only made him want to cry more. "I'm in love with you."

"I know," was all she said. Katniss moved her hand to the back of Peeta's neck and used all the strength she had to pull his head closer to hers.

She parted her lips slightly and let his rest softly on hers. It was short and gentle. Peeta pulled away and looked Katniss in the eyes. He seemed to read her mind; they were having a conversation without saying anything out loud. He kissed her again. This one was harder, deeper, full of longing. Peeta tried not to treat it as a goodbye kiss, but that's what it turned out to be. The best goodbye kiss ever.

* * *

><p>A canon went off, and just like that, the 74th Hunger Games were over.<p>

**AN- Considering writing a fourth chapter. Hmm, what do you guys think? What would the rest of the story be like without Katniss? That would be interesting. Are you excited about opening night! Me too! Hope its good. Not seeing it today though because I'm going to go see my friends in the Phantom of the Opera. (My friend is the Phantom!) Read and Review please =]**


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